


Lost on You

by spicymeatball



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicymeatball/pseuds/spicymeatball
Summary: Asra's apprentice is plagued by headaches and nightmares until the day she meets a familiar stranger on the streets and her life changes.





	1. 001

I am awoken by the shuffle of cards on the table. The bed is cold, half the covers folded over onto my body, indicating that the other presence who had been slumbering next to me is gone. I reach out towards the empty space, the moonlight pouring in from the window illuminating my skin. It's common for Asra to be awake in the middle of the night, but it seems as if lately he has been unable to sleep at all.

  
Letting my feet hit the chilly wooden floor, I drag myself into full consciousness and push my body upright. It doesn't take me long to find my master - he is where he always is, illuminated by a few small candles scattered around the table where we usually eat breakfast together. His head is resting in one of his hands while he shuffles his deck with the other. Asra remains unaware of my presence until I approach and place my hand on his shoulder.

"Master?"

He snaps out of his trance and glances up at me. A small smile spreads across his face.

"My dearest apprentice," his voice is rough, lacking the softness it would normally have due to his lost sleep. "Why are you awake at this time of morning?"

"I could ask you the same," I reply. "Did you simply wish to give yourself a reading by the light of the moon?"

A furrow flashes across his brow. He pauses his shuffling and instead reaches for the hand that is still resting on his shoulder. "I was... seeking some answers. I have read the cards multiple times, but I never hear anything new. The arcana are... being unhelpful at the moment." His eyes crinkle up in the most dazzling smile and I feel like I'm almost missing out, only being able to see his expression in the dim light of a few candles. "It's alright though, my dear, I am sure that if the answers I wanted were so urgent, then the arcana would let me know. Come, let's go back to bed. I promise not to leave it this time. You always seem to wake when I do."

Asra blows out the candles and tugs my hand, gently leading me back to the bedroom with him. He pulls me down onto the cool mattress next to him and wraps me in his arms, secure against his chest. I feel a shiver rip through my shoulders when a summer breeze blows in through our window. He pulls me closer and spreads his hands across my stomach, enveloping me completely in his warmth as I drift off into a light sleep.

 

_I dream a nightmare. I am surrounded by fire. I am scared, unable to move or breathe as the red flames lick at my skin. It feels like an eternity, and despite the dream, I can feel the pain and heat as if it were real. I cry out, and then, there is only darkness. An unfamiliar voice calls my name. A feeling as if I am in a memory. I see a light before me, and a tall, lean figure reaching out for me. I start to walk towards him, but it's as if he is only getting further away the more desperately I try to reach him. I feel heat behind me. Just as he is about to fade from my sight, the flames come back once more, swallowing me whole this time._

 

I wake with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard. The first greeting my conscious mind gets is a throb in the base of my skull, painful enough for me to worry about the possibility of my head having been split open in the middle of the night. Asra is gone from our room, so I place my head in my hands, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of my scalp. I run through the techniques he taught me for these headaches. Deep breath in through my nose. Hold ten seconds. Exhale from my mouth for five.

When that doesn't work, I decide that yelling is a decent enough solution for the problem.

I can make out hammering and frantic footsteps barrelling up the stairs at the sound of my cries. I can't see Asra come into the room, but I feel his presence. He drops down next to me and replaces the fingers digging into my skull with his own. A soft purple warmth washes over me and I hear him whispering something into my ear. My cries stop, though the world is still spinning. The ice pick in my skull dulls to a low throb. I can no longer remember my nightmare.

Once I am coherent enough to understand the words coming from my master's mouth, I mouth a thank you to him and take a second to catch my breath.

"You haven't had a headache like that in a few days," he says, trying to keep his voice soft in case my head is still unwelcoming of louder noise.

"Yes," my voice is shaking, "I think I had a nightmare. I'm not sure. I can't remember anymore."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" I reach out and grab under his chin, forcing his purple eyes to focus on me. "What is there for you to be sorry for, Asra?"

Genuine sadness flashes across his face for a second. "You have been having more headaches lately and I haven't always been here to help you." He looks off, his eyes unfocusing as one small tear falls down his face and onto my exposed leg. "I keep looking for answers - trying to find a way to help you, but I come back empty handed every time. And in the meantime... you're left alone."

"Asra..." I wrap my arms around his shoulders and force him against my chest, his chin resting on my shoulder. He nuzzles into my neck, his fluffly hair tickling my ear. I grip desperately at him, nearly ripping his shirt in half. My heart is breaking for him, for me, for the both of us. As his hands slide to my hips, pulling me impossibly closer to him, I press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

We sit like that for a while, long enough for my fingers to go numb from gripping his shirt for so long, until he finally lets me go and pulls back.

His eyes are red and swollen, but the both of us seem to have calmed down.

"I'm sorry," he says, this time with a tiny, broken smile. "You have such a lacking master."

"The only thing my master is lacking in lately is sleep," I chide at him, cradling his cheek to wipe away the last of his tears with my thumb.

Asra nuzzles into my touch, letting me see a rare vulnerable side of him. However, it doesn't last long. Quicker than his tears can dry, he steps up and offers his hand out to me. "Come now, let's get you some tea and I'll help you make breakfast, my dear apprentice. An apology for crying to you."

"If that's the case," I say, grabbing his hand and letting him pull me onto my feet, "then I owe you a thousand apology breakfasts by now."

He laughs. "Well... Let's start with this one for now."


	2. 002

I have gotten better at recognizing the difference between when I am dreaming, and when a memory is trying to come back to me. When it is dream, my vision is clean, and life is simple. In my dreams, I'm usually with Asra. We'll be making breakfast, or boiling tea, or maybe rummaging through the woods to collect herbs and mushrooms for random purposes, both magical and non-magical.

But when the memories come back, everything is hazy, and there are sharp pains that tear through my skull. When the memories break through, I feel as if I am being ripped apart, and I am scared.

Sometimes Asra is there, though the aura that surrounds him in my memories is different - a striking hot flame of passion, but I can never seem to reach him. And sometimes... there is someone else. He is tall, wiry, and I don't know him, but I feel a comfort as soon as he appears. I can't quite make out his features, but I can always spot him from the way he smiles at me, and the way his curly hair bounces as he runs towards me. But he can never quite get close. I am always eaten away by the ever present flames licking up my back.

And then I am awake and the pain becomes more real than ever.

I scream for Asra, once again, his calming techniques doing nothing to stop my mind from trying to rip itself in two. As always, he immediately comes sprinting up the stairs and without hesitation, gently cradles my head, letting his magic wash over me.

He sits there for a minute, letting my head lay in his lap before he whispers my name and massages his fingertips into my scalp.

"This is two days in a row," he says, his voice gruff with unshed tears. "I am not sure what to do with you. It seems as if... these nightmares are becoming more and more frequent."

I turn on his lap, moving so that I can stare up at him. He is looking off into the distance, focusing on nothing again. "Perhaps," I start, "it may be because my mind is occupied on them. The shop has not been busy, and you have so often been gone lately, Asra." I feel the muscles in his thighs constrict beneath my neck as the words leave my mouth. He must be feeling guilty. "I have nothing to ponder these days but my missing memories, and what I could have been before you found me. Maybe I just need a distraction to take my thoughts off of what these nightmares mean."

Asra looks down at me. His tiny smirk flashes across his face, giving me one of those rare glimpses of his endearing little dimple. I reach up to poke it, but he is, as always, quick to swat my stray finger away before I can.

"So you're saying you just need a distraction, my dear apprentice?"

Before I can even respond, he is pushing me off his lap and striding across the room as if he has found a new purpose in life. "If that is the case," he continues, reaching for his shawl, "then I shall place a thousand distractions in your mind. Get ready, dear, we'll be going into town together today."

 

  
The thrum and bustle of the town is, in fact, perhaps not the most suitable distraction for a person who is trying to escape headaches. From the second Asra had dragged me out of the shop, sporting a new gold and shimmering outfit for me that he picked up from a neighboring country, the sounds of the city had created a dull throb in the base of my skull again. Children laughing, adults bartering, birds chirping, and every other living creature was making some kind of ruckus, including Asra himself. He had taken to greeting every human being and creature he walked by, and they all seemed to be friendly with him also. With his smile shining brighter than the mid-afternoon sun, I started to wonder what his life held when he wasn't with me, withering away in the shop.

As we passed by a baker's stand, Asra's eyes widen, and his sweaty palm that had been glued to my own since the second we left the shop grips mine with a bone-crushing force.

My name excitedly passed from his lips as he all but drags me behind the curtain of the baker's stand.

The smell of pumpkin and hazelnet and cardamom attacks my nostrils, making my mouth water.

"Ah, Farid! I see you are set in this part of town again!" Asra reaches out to the baker manning the stall. He is a tall, plump man with a round belly much resembling a perfectly shaped roll. "It is good to see you again! My apprentice and I would be pleased to have a pumpkin loaf, if you would be so kind."

Asra throws some of his coins onto the table, but the baker pushes them back. "Of course I would happy to serve you, old friend." Farid looks over towards me, saying my name to gather my attention. "And of course I would be happy to serve you too. I was wondering if I would ever see you again. Was starting to think that maybe you had up and left the country!"

As he turns to ask Asra about where the two of us have been I start to feel that sharp pain in the back of my mind again. The baker knew my name. Had I forgotten him? Did I meet him recently, or did I meet him before my amnesia set in? But that wouldn't make sense... Asra hadn't mentioned that he knew me before he found me. Or that I had even been from this country. Surely he would have told me-

I am summoned from my thoughts by Asra throwing his arm around my shoulder and thrusting a pumpkin loaf into my open hands.

"Eat up, dear! We've a whole city to explore today!"

"Y-yes! Thank you, Farid." I bow to him before taking a nibble of the sweet in my hand. "We ought to be going, but I hope to see you again soon."

With that, Asra and I make our exit. He is still greeting nearly everyone by name, despite a mouth full of pumpkin bread. He pushes me down the street towards a stall decorated with crystals and small twinkling lights. A tiny voice in the back of my mind tells me it is a simple fortune teller's shop.

Asra's hand on the small of my back gently guides me towards the gaudy colored curtain. I turn back to see a smirk plastered across his handsome face.

"Well? I think we could use a few lessons from someone else who also reads fortunes, don't you think?" There is hint of playfullness in his voice. "Humor me, when you read cards at our shop you lack a certain... flair. Let's see how cards are read in here, hmm?"

I look at him in desperation. I've never been a fan of the theatrical type of card reading. I prefer to listen to what the arcana tell me and produce a calm atmosphere for my customers. "I don't know, Asra. Aren't the card readers in the street here just to take money and recite a card's meaning? I'm not sure what I could learn from this. It feels... fake?"

Despite my protests, Asra is intent on entering the stall. He dismisses me with a non-chalant wave of his hand and pulls the curtain aside, leading me into a small space decorated with more crystals, gold tassels, and enough candles that I am actually worried I may pass out from smoke inhalation before the mystic can read all of my cards. The fortune teller is covered in gold jewelry, her curly red hair pulled back from her face by a bejeweled headband.

"Welcome," she says, gesturing to the cushions that are set before her low table which holds a single deck of tarot cards. "Care for a lover's reading?"

I smile at her. "Actually we're not-"

"Yes, of course," Asra interrupts me before I can finish my protest. He drops a few gold coins onto her table. "We'll do a single card reading, please."

With amazing dexterity she shuffles and cuts the deck. Asra picks a single card and flips it over for her to see.

"Upright Death," she muses, smiling at the card on the table. "It means it is time for a rebirth of your relationship."

I pick my card also, ready for this reading to be over with. I flip it over. It is the Wheel of Fortune in the upright position.

"Ah, it seems as if it is time for a change on your side as well." She smiles at the two of us. "Well, it bodes well for your relationship. I see an easy transition to a more devoted relationship in your future. May your love grow stronger together, and with your new party involved."

My eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean, our new party involved?"

"The cards tell me that there will be a major shift in your relationship dynamic. The future that fate holds for you may be one that is difficult at first, but with time will become easier." The fortune teller shifts her eyes to focus on me. "They also tell me that you will understand it all soon."

I feel that sharp pain in the back of my mind again, and it must be clear on my face because the next thing I know, Asra is gripping my elbow and yanking me into a standing position. He has been quiet through the reading, despite being the one who insisted on it, but I can feel an annoyance taking over him.

"Thank you for the reading," he says, no emotion in his voice. It is unlike him to be so cold towards someone of our own profession. "I am afraid we'll be taking our leave now."

Asra pulls me out onto the street and with much difficulty I struggle along behind him, trying to keep up with his pace. I stumble for a few blocks before he finally slows his pace and gives me a chance to catch my breath.

"Asra? Asra!" I yank my arm back from his grip, causing him to stop his retreat. "What is wrong with you? Why were you so rude back there? Why did you yank me out of that shop?"

"I thought you were starting to get a memory again," he says, his expression changing into one of embarassment. "It seemed like something she may have said triggered something in your brain. I just wanted to get you out before you were hurt. I'm sorry."

"It is alright, however, I don't appreciate the man-handling." I rub at my arm he had been dragging along.

"I know, I'm so sorry, my dear apprentice." He reaches for my arm, his fingertips glowing that beautiful lavender color of his magic. A warm tingling overtakes my skin as he massages me. "I'm not sure what came over me. If you were to have an episode because of something I suggested we do... I don't... Well, I don't know what I would do. I'm sorry."

"Oh, my beloved Master," I say, stroking his cheek, "you are always apologizing for nothing. It is fine. Let's just go home now. I think I have been sufficiently distracted enough for one day."

His dimpled smile back at me makes my heart skip a beat. I smile back at him, slipping my arm through his so that our elbows are linked together. Just as we are about to head back in the direction of the shop, we are both started by a voice yelling out my name from behind us.

The pain hits me like a train, nearly dragging my consciousness outside of my own head. Asra has to scramble to catch me in his arms before I fall onto the stone path beneath us. Before my eyes can close and give in the darkness threatening to take me, I see a vision from my nightmares. The tall man, the one with the comforting presence,is running down the cobblestone street towards me, his curly hair bouncing under the sunlight. The familiar voice of his is calling out my name, and as I fall into unconsciousness, my mind brings his name out from his lips in response, the taste of it like the sweetest memory.

"Julian."


	3. 003

_A nightmare? No, my dream is a comforting one. Visions flash before me of stolen moments of intimacy. A large hand gripping my thigh, a tender kiss on my lips, and strong arms wrapped around me. I see my own face reflected in the eyes of the man who had been haunting my nightmares so often, desperately trying to reach me. There is no worry on his face, just a smile as bright as the sun. Then the flames are back, and I feel myself giving into them. A tear slides down his cheek._

I wake with a start once again. The throbbing in the base of my skull isn't as demanding as it usually is when I wake up from a memory-dream. I press my fingers against the back of my neck and use my own magic this time, and orange-colored warmth floods through my skull and down my spine, dulling the pain. The light filtering in through the window is a dull red, it must be close to sunset. The last thing I remember is being at the market in the afternoon when Asra and I were interrupted by something...

I can't think an further past that as a new, sharper pain invades my mind and threatens to take over. I press my fingertips against my scalp and work my magic through again. It must be something that my mind doesn't want to remember at the moment. Slowly, I rise from the bed and tip-toe towards the stairs, eager to find Asra and check on him. A soft murmur of voices below stops me from descending the stairs. Strange, usually we wouldn't have visitors at this time, and we even closed down the shop so we could go out today. I close my eyes and focus on trying to hear what they're saying, trying not to alert whoever it is of my presence.

"I just want to know who she is, Asra, and then I will be out of your hair for good." The voice speaking is the one from my dreams. I feel a dull ache in my mind, but decide to keep listening on. Perhaps the conversation will bring me some kind of answer as to why I keep dreaming of him.

"Ilya, you know you cannot be here!" Asra's hushed whisper is full of anger. "You are wanted for murder, Ilya. I don't owe you any explanations about her."

"I can't leave until I know. Her image is haunting me. I see her face when I close my eyes. And today! Today when I saw the two of you walking together, I remembered her name for the first time, Asra! It has to mean something. All of these missing memories... Are they of her? Or are they because of her? Who is she?"

"They aren't because of her, Ilya. She is no one to you anymore."

I can hear Asra try to walk away, his footsteps sounding closer to the steps.

"Wait- Asra! Please, what do you mean by 'anymore?'"

"She doesn't remember anything. She is my apprentice right now and nothing else."

The voice from my dreams lets out a scoff. "Just like the way we are only ex-coworkers and nothing else, huh?"

"This doesn't have to do with us, Ilya," Asra's angry whisper-yell is back. "This is about her and keeping her safe!"

"I will help you keep her safe if you just tell me who she is!"

"Ah! Yes! Because you just did a splendid job before! Not that you would remember that anymore."

A sharp pain in the base of my skull alerts me that there is memory in Asra's words, but before I can even try to recall, I am pulled back into the present by the other voice shouting back.

"You know, it is awfully hard to defend myself when I have no idea what you are talking about. You haven't changed a bit, magician. Gods, if only I could remember her instead of you. What I would do to forget all-mighty Asra, the Magician."

"Why don't you forget both of us and leave, then?"

"Because she won't leave me alone! I can't even sleep because I'm too worried about someone who I don't even remember!"

"Then don't sleep!"

"Asra, I am begging you, please."

"It wouldn't be the first or last time you beg me for something, Ilya."

"Please," there is a hint of desperation in the voice now. "This is the closest I have been to relief. I just need to know and you will be free of me."

Asra is silent for a minute. He lets out a deep sigh. He's always been weak to begging and patheticness in general.

"She was..." Asra sighs again, "our lover."

It takes a good few seconds for the word to sink in, but when it does, it brings a wave of pain so strong it weakens my knees and I buckle into myself on the floor. They must hear me collapse because I can sense their pouding footsteps rushing at me through the floor. It feels as if my body is no longer my own when two pairs of hands grab my shoulders and pull me from the floor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I hear Asra cursing, but he sounds so far away. "If I had known she was awake I wouldn't have said anything! Ilya, hold her."

I feel my weight shift so that I'm leaned against something broad. It must be Ilya. The name sounds familiar, but something about it is wrong. I don't think I called him that.

Asra's fingers press against my forehead and a blast of cool, blue air enters my mind. His magic always manages to take away the pain. Before I can lose consciousness under his touch, I reach around me, gripping the body that is holding my own. His name comes back to my mind and spills from my lips.

"Julian," I say, "I don't want to forget you again."

And then everything goes dark.


End file.
